This week will be a quiet week. A quiet week sounds really good. Gordon and Deborah have gone camping. Rachael isn't here and Hannah is laying low. Camping. Oh the bliss of not being there! I have camped myself into a hope-to-never-camp-again mode.
We are old fashioned campers. We don't have a camper or recreational vehicle of any kind. We use good old fashioned tents and sleeping bags. For years, we camped every summer simply because it was all we could afford. Those were good times and I've lots of great memories.
When Deborah was a newborn, 6 days old having arrived by c-section, we went camping. Yes, that is admirable. Perhaps slightly stupid, it illustrates my devotion to family camping trips.
Before my hysterectomy, we went camping in Saskatchewan for what was supposed to be 12 days. My medical needs dictated we come home on day eight. In the emergency room, I told the doctor of the last eight days in Saskatchewan. He said, "Well, thankfully you weren't camping." Oh, but I was. It was slightly on the hellish side of life.
Three years ago we started camping with our friends, the Loszchuks. Wonderful people. (Gordon and Tom are best friends and can talk for hours about the boringest stuff ever.) Although they are old fashioned campers too, (tents and sleeping bags), they take camping more seriously than I. Christine is a great cook and loves cooking. I am a mediocre cook and derive little satisfaction in the exercise. Camping is about relaxing and relaxing to me means little cooking. Breakfast is cereal, muffins, or fruit. Your
choice. Lunch is sandwiches, chips, and fruit. Supper may be hot dogs, hamburgers or chili that I made at home. Considered a splurge of exertion, I make one "good" meal and it's simple too; chicken, potatoes, corn-on-the-cob and cantaloupe. Simple, simple, simple. It's all about being simple. If it's not simple, it's too much work.
Christine is my polar opposite. She loves to cook, remember? They bring so many food items they require two vehicles, one hauling mostly food. She makes spaghetti over a campfire. And veal cutlets. She makes bacon, eggs and hash browns for breakfast. She makes a full meal for lunch. Do you think my family wants cereal when there's bacon and eggs next door? Or sandwiches when Christine is frying up a fish? They don't. They end up eating over there and I look like the mom who doesn't feed her family. So I go help Christine cook to keep from looking like a louse. I hate every second of it.
Remember, I don't enjoy cooking and it is work for me. Camping is about relaxation. Again I say it, Christine loves to cook. She cooks all day and my family loves to eat her cooking. To save face, I end up at their fire cooking with Christine. It's exhausting. Not just the cooking but the mental anguish of keeping up with her and pretending to enjoy it. Terrifically exhausting. I'd rather sleep, read, explore, almost anything, rather than cook.
That's when camping became too laborious for me. This is my second year of not going camping. Quite frankly, I'm loving it.